


So I Hear You Can Raise the Dead

by Croik



Category: Re-Animator (Movies), The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Croik/pseuds/Croik
Summary: Herbert West receives a rather rough but not unwelcome invitation for new work.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	So I Hear You Can Raise the Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delina/gifts).



> When I saw the prompt I couldn't help myself. Happy Holidays!!

In the end, it took everything left in the nail gun, a sledgehammer, and a lucky collapse of the slop sink that finally did the job. Herbet West collapsed back against his work bench, breathing hard as he scraped the blood on his hands across his shirt. Some of it was his this time, but not enough to be of much concern. As he wiped off his glasses, idly wondering over the cost of kevlar, he heard the locks on the basement door being undone one by one.

Dan didn’t make it to the bottom of the stairs; he stopped short as soon as he saw the blood, and he sighed. “Jesus, Herb. What was it this time?”

“Labrador. Highway accident.” Herbert replaced his glasses and headed across the lab to shut off the pipe that was spewing water from where the sink had broken free. “Man’s best friend indeed.”

Dan stepped cautiously off the bottom stair. “Any way you can make yourself presentable in the next ten minutes? We have a visitor.”

“Not interested.” Herbet finished closing off the pipe, but he could not hide a wince as he leaned back; putting his strength into twisting the valve had aggravated the shallow gash across the back of his wrist, and he quickly turned about in search of mostly-clean rag to dress it with. “I’m very certain you can entertain whoever it is well enough on your own.”

“I think you’ll want to talk to her,” Dan insisted, drawing a scoff from Herbert--of _course_ it was a woman--but then his manner shifted into serious, and he forgot his caution for the bloodstains as he crossed the lab to Herbert’s side. The care with which he captured Herbert’s wounded hand was startling, and Herbert blinked at him, struck still.

“He got you, huh?” asked Dan. “Let me clean that up for you.”

Was that scorn in his furrowed brow, or sympathy? Either way Herbert didn’t like it one bit, and he stiffly extricated the offending limb. “That’s not necessary.”

“It looks like it needs stitches.”

Herbert squirmed past him to reach the first aid station against the wall. “I’m more than capable of stitching it myself,” he said as he began collecting the necessary supplies. “You don’t want to keep your lady friend waiting, do you?”

Dan sighed again. “It’s not like that,” he said. “She’s asking for you specifically--says she knew a Dr. Gruber you once worked with.”

Herbert stopped. There were only so many reasons why someone would invoke Dr. Gruber’s name to him, and not many of them were worth entertaining, let alone welcome. As he stood there, contemplating, he neglected to take notice of the approaching footsteps until the bottom stair creaked. He and Dan both turned: the woman was stepping down into the lab.

She was not what Herbert had expected when Dan first said he’d brought a woman home, nor what those expectations had then shifted to. She was tall, with long, brown hair tied back in a bun, glasses poised on very symmetrical cheekbones. Her expression was calm and impassive even as she took in the ramshackle laboratory, splattered with blood and a shallow pool of dirty water, the mutilated corpse of a once tolerated family pet crushed into a corner. 

“Tatiana,” said Dan, pale-faced as he rushed, far too late, to intercept her. “Sorry, you weren’t supposed to...I said I’d be right back.”

“I was impatient,” Tatiana admitted bluntly, but with such casual lack of concern that Herbert couldn’t help but admire her. Her cool gaze fell on him and he actually felt a chill. “Ah, Dr. West. I’m so glad to have finally rooted you out.”

Herbert straightened up and regarded her carefully, though he could not say his interested wasn’t piqued. “So it would seem. How can I help you, Mrs....?”

“Doctor,” Tatiana corrected him, and her heels were stained with gore as she crossed toward them. “Dr. Tatiana Gutierrez, at your service.”

She offered her hand, but upon seeing the state of Herbert’s, she paused. Her brow rose an almost imperceptible degree. “Oh, my. Do you need any help with that?”

“No,” Herbert said quickly, drawing his hand close to his chest. “I was just about to stitch it myself.”

Dan fixed him with a disapproving look. “Seriously, Herb, just let us—”

“May I observe?” Tatiana asked, and both men stared at her, taken aback. She only stared back, politely interested and oblivious to their discomfort.

“...If you want,” Herbert said at length, and he finished gathering the surgical supplies.

The three of them sat around the kitchen table, every available light positioned to aid in Herbert’s impromptu surgery. He was no stranger to stitches, even though stitched onto himself, but he wasn’t used to having an audience. Though Dan offered several times to assist--and was rebuffed each time--Tatiana offered nothing, watching in silent judgment as Herbert worked the needle back and forth through his flesh. Her nearly unblinking scrutiny put him on edge but he worked without falter and then tightly bandaged the troublesome wound.

“Well done,” Tatiana said dryly, and it was impossible to determine just how much sarcasm she was employing. “You have very steady hands, Dr. West.”

“Now that that is out of the way,” said Herbert, watching Tatiana with as much close attention as she had him, “what was it you needed me for, Dr. Gutierrez?”

“I’ve been trying to find you for some time.” Tatiana leaned back in her chair; she was still evaluating him. “I had the privilege of working with Dr. Gruber many years ago, when he was in the earliest stages of his research.” She tilted her head. “It was not very promising at the time.”

Dan glanced to Herbert, expecting offense, but Herbert had certainly never been one to let pride overcome his professionalism. “No, it was not very promising at all until I joined him. So what about it interests you now?”

“I’ve reason to believe you’ve achieved greater success than he did.”

“I have.” Herbert continued to eye her warily, determined not to be intimidated. “What of it?”

“Herbert,” Dan said, gently warning. He then turned his charm on Tatiana. “Please, excuse Dr. West. I think what he means is—”

“I said what I mean,” Herbert interrupted him. “I want to know what interest she has in our work here.”

Tatiana’s lips curled, ever so slightly, in a hint of a smile. “Then I’ll be plain,” she said. “I admire the work you did at Miskatonic. I want to know how you accomplished the level of reanimation that you did, and I want you to recreate it for me with a particular subject.”

Dan gulped, and though Herbert was not so easily spooked, he could not deny a thud of anxiety within his chest. Or was that excitement? If this shrewd woman had truly partaken of his research and believed in its validity, she had the air of money about her that could mean a wealthy patron, perhaps even security enough to complete his experiments in more ideal conditions. If she mentioned the university only as a threat to force some blackmail, he would have to kill her then and there. It would not be difficult to accomplish, being in the kitchen already. He could devise all manner of workable methods that would keep the majority of her body intact.

“I am a scientist, not a dancing monkey,” Herbert told her. “Nor am I a dispensary. I see no benefit to me for reanimating some corpse for you.”

“I think you would if you met him,” said Tatiana enigmatically, and even Herbert found that a bit intriguing. Could it have been Dr. Gruber himself? It seemed highly unlikely. “

“Is it...someone we know?” Dan asked carefully. 

“Oh, no, I seriously doubt that.” Tatiana spared him only the barest of glances before turning her full attention back to Herbert, which Dan himself seemed to find off-putting. “But I think you’ll get on very well, assuming the reanimation works, of course.”

“I’m not interested,” Herbert said. It would be simple enough to follow her after she left, if his curiosity did get the better of him, and in the meantime he was more keen to know how far she was willing to go to convince him. “I have to ask you to leave.”

“I can pay you,” Tatiana offered, even though the words coming out of her own mouth seemed to bore her. “We can fund your research, we can supply you with a lab to work in. There’s even employment available if you like.”

“I am not interested,” Herbert repeated before Dan could speak. “Please show yourself out.”

Tatiana’s expression did not change in the least; there was no annoyance, disappointment, resignation, or any other such waste of time as sentimental emotion. “Very well,” she said, in that same dull, dry inflection, as she pushed to her feet. “I’m happy to.”

“Wait,” said Dan, stumbling over the words and his own feet as he hurried upright. “Wait, I think we need a little more time with this. Who is it you work for again?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” said Tatiana, and she pulled from the inside of her beige coat a very large syringe. 

The needle was in Dan’s neck long before he saw it. Tatiana thumbed the plunger down, and in moments Dan collapsed to the floor, shaking, foam in his mouth. It happened too fast, and the sight of his eyes rolling back sent cold rushing through Herbert’s unsuspecting veins. Instinctively he grabbed for the surgical scissors still placed out on the kitchen table, but by the time he could get his off hand to wield it Tatiana had already pulled a second surprise from her coat. She pulled the trigger and two electrodes jabbed into Herbert’s chest. He only managed a breath before she pumped him full of 50,000 volts.

The pain was short-lived but excruciating--Herbert even spared a moment of fascination for the feeling of his skin charring against the metal scissors in his hand. He hit the floor soon after, gasping and gagging, his muscles seized and sight pure white. His skin prickled all over, but he felt whenTatiana crouched beside him and gentle repositioned his wounded hand so as to not aggravate the fresh stitches.

“You’re going to like it there,” she said, and the world went from bright to dark as she tied a blindfold over his eyes.

***

Herbert lost consciousness for a time. When he awoke he was first aware of ligatures binding his wrists, as one had been positioned further back than the other to avoid his bandages. Such consideration from his kidnapper. Either she was much too soft to be engaging in kidnapping in the first place, or she was wise enough to want his most valuable tools unharmed.

He could hear Tatiana’s heels clacking on tile, and gradually his surroundings solidified into movement, and fluorescent lights burning through the blindfold, and the squeak of small wheels. Herbert didn’t bother trying to struggle and instead simply listened, trying to judge the size of the space based on the echoes of Tatiana’s footsteps. He was strapped to a wheelchair, being pushed down what seemed to be a hospital hallway. The air was sterile and cold.

“Are you awake?” asked Tatiana in that emotionless tenor of hers. 

Herbert turned his head back and forth, but there were no other sounds to draw from that gave any hint to his situation. “Where is Daniel?”

“You needn’t worry about Dr. Cain.”

Herbet tested his feet and found them unhindered, though the ligatures at his wrist were tight enough that he couldn’t risk fighting too hard for freedom. Despite this presence of mind, he could not help but grip the arm rest of the wheelchair hard enough that his knuckles ached. “Hurting him will not motivate me to share my formula with you,” he said, disapproving of the strain that crept into his voice. “If necessary I can always revive him myself.”

“That sounds fascinating,” said Tatiana, “but unnecessary. I assure you, Dr. Cain is fine.”

Herbert’s feet struck a pair of double doors, which opened beneath Tatiana’s continued pressure against the wheelchair. They entered what was doubtlessly a large, open chamber, as evidenced by expanding echo of Tatiana’s heels. Thankfully, she did not keep him in suspense much longer; she moved around the chair and tugged the blindfold off. 

Herbert tried to take in as much of the room at once as possible and found himself fairly overwhelmed. The chamber was not large but immense, stretching nearly three stories tall and boasting walls of the most expensive-looking equipment Herbert had ever seen. Banks of servers and hundreds of monitors flanked the chamber’s impressive centerpiece: a machine he could not begin to identify that towered over the rest, sensory deprivation tubs surrounding a monolith overrun with wires and sensors. It was more than a fringe scientist like himself could ever dream of, and he caught himself all but salivating.

Tatiana untied him from the chair. She had draped a white lab coat over her blouse and had that same serene, unconcerned smile just barely tugging at the edge of her lip. “What do you think?” she asked.

Herbert massaged his sore wrists as he cautiously stood from the chair. There were other scientists about dressed in lab whites; those that took notice of them were not phased by his bloodstained clothing, and they continued to move about the chamber with focused efficiency. 

“Well,” said Herbert, his discerning eye tracing one workstation to the next. “You’re well funded, if nothing else.”

Tatiana’s amusement seemed to deepen. “Is that really all you have to say, seeing this?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” Herbert replied coolly, “but I’m not about to get excited over a machine that I have no idea of the functions of. My field is flesh, Dr. Gutierrez. I have no interest in whatever psychotherapy experiment is going on here.”

“My, that’s quite an educated guess.” Tatiana touched his shoulder, and though Herbert would have liked to shake her off, there was something unnerving in how little that would offend her, so he didn’t bother. “In that case, let me show you some flesh, Dr. West.”

Tatiana guided him to the north end of the chamber, where several tall, glass containment units were nestled up against the wall. At last Herbert had to confess real interest when he saw that each contained a human organ: lungs, small intestines, heart...brain. Each preserved in vitamin-rich sludge, so it seemed, several of them pulsing gently. The brain, however, was in a sorry state: its shape was roughly hewn as if it had been stretched or crushed and then hastily re-assembled. The machinery below it showed no signs of life.

“This brain once belonged to a scientist known as Ruben Victoriano,” Tatiana explained. “I wouldn’t expect you to have heard of him; he was very much like you, I think, carrying out his work in the shadows. His field of study was…” She hummed thoughtfully. “...similarly unwelcome in modern academia as yours.”

Herbert snorted. “That amounts to very little. Modern academia is frustratingly small-minded to all manner of research.” 

He paused then, taking in the subtle expectation in her face, the attention from the other scientists. “This brain,” he said as the gears in his one began churning. “You’d like for me to revive it for you.”

“I would,” said Tatiana, betraying no emotion.

“With these organs?” Herbert moved down the line of specimen containers. “What a random collection. Did you not preserve the spinal column?”

“The dissection was under less than ideal circumstances. We salvaged what we could.” She watched without trying to interfere as he moved to the nearest monitor station. “But it’s the brain that we require. A functional body is not necessary.”

“What worth does the brain have with no nervous system? There’s no way to know if we’ve revived its intelligence unless…”

Herbert paused, and a chill ran the length of his spine. He turned back toward the center of the chamber, where the immense monolith of a machine hummed at the ready. A specimen container stood at the center, though even from that distance Herbert could see it was not primed with an occupant. For the first time in many years, he was struck with a humbling realization: that these scientists were beyond him in many respects, conceiving of and manifesting fields of study far beyond the petty journals he had been seeking entry into for years. He was surrounded by wealth and privacy the likes of which he could never achieve in a rented house, sneaking in experiments while scraping by at lowly residencies. This was an opportunity he thought had died with Dr. Gruber himself.

Herbert turned toward Tatiana, and she faced him with unhurried patience. She knew better than to doubt that she already had him, but he gathered himself up and made an effort to outdo her impeccable facade. “So. Can I assume you need life in this brain for use in this machine of yours?”

“That’s correct,” said Tatiana.

“What does it do?”

Tatiana’s eyes thinned with good humor. “You’ll see once you’ve succeeded.”

“Hmph.” Herbert returned to the case with the brain in question; his heart quickened as if spurred on again by pulses of raw electricity. Despite the more than questionable circumstances he could have never walked away without knowing what strange and valuable intellect lay within the gray and mangled flesh. 

“Very well.” Herbert turned to Tatiana and squared his shoulders. “I’ll need a place to work that’s more private than this, and I’ll provide you with a list of equipment and supplies that I’ll require.”

“Of course,” Tatiana replied smoothly, as if his agreement had been a foregone conclusion from the start. “We can provide you with anything you need.”

“Daniel,” Herbert said quickly, though he then shook himself to squash that moment of urgency. “I’ll require the assistance of Dr. Cain, so he had better be in better shape than your specimens here.”

Tatiana was quiet for a moment, stoking Herbert’s anxiety, but then she nodded. “Like I said, he’s perfectly fine. I’ll have him brought to your work space.”

“Good.” Herbert felt a smirk beginning to tug at his mouth as he turned toward the specimen container again. “I’ll also want a fresh shirt before I meet him. Ruben Victoriano.” He touched his hand to the glass. “Let’s see what you I can learn from you.”


End file.
